


Victorious

by Simon_says_fly



Category: DCU (Comics), Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, DC character invades Worm, F/F, F/M, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simon_says_fly/pseuds/Simon_says_fly
Summary: Claire Clover unexpectedly finds herself transported into a new universe - one that, while similar in that there are superheroes present, the world seems so different from her own.  It will take time, years in fact, before Claire can find a way to make this new Earth home.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	Victorious

**Author's Note:**

> I have found myself following a weird trend lately. I like reading Reddit regarding Worm Fanfics and I often see people looking for certain stories. Ideas. Often, I get an inspiration based upon what they might or might not be looking for, and then I put it out there. I guess it is not much different than asking for suggestions, but whenever I try to talk to potential readers, I seem to be ignored.
> 
> Anyway, I read in a post someone looking for a character from another fandom to be included into the Worm universe. Not a Taylor/Alt!Power. Just a good ol’ character insertion for the greater good. Since I am more of a DC fan than Marvel, comic book wise versus movies, I tend to lean the DC way. In addition, I love me some Supergirl Fanfic, but she’d been done, so I looked elsewhere.
> 
> I also said in the latest chapters of my other stories that I probably wasn’t gonna post any new chapters until after New Year’s. That’s still the plan. I can honestly say that I had no idea that inspiration was gonna hit me this hard. I wrote all of this over the course of three days. I weep for the mistakes that can be found within.
> 
> Man, I really need a Beta.
> 
> What follows is a quick little pre-Worm setting story. Just over 20k. Maybe I will come back to it later… see how this world works.
> 
> I hope everyone had a great holiday in whatever way you and yours choose to celebrate it.
> 
> Here we go…

Victory 01.01

“Ooh.” Her voice felt scratchy. “Anyone get the number of the truck that hit me?” Everything was blurry. 

How hard had he hit her? 

Wait. 

Who hit me? 

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs that seemed to linger, Claire raised her hand to wipe at her eyes. She blinked rapidly, though nothing really seemed to help. Figuring that any type of clarity of vision was going to have to wait a bit more, she tried to listen to see if she could hear what was going on around her. 

Nothing.

Well, that’s not to say that it was actually quiet around where she was laying. It was, in fact, anything but quiet. Her hearing picked up the various sounds that life in Gotham City seemed to always offer. Sirens came from various corners of the metropolis, each going along with the occasional scream and cry for help. A cacophony made up of breaking glass and car alarms, music and electronic sounds, all blended with conversations and arguments… it sounded like any other night, and it was night. Her impaired eyesight offered that much, at least.

She was a bit surprised that whoever had clocked her hard enough to put her onto the ground and need a moment to gather her wits wasn’t on top of her, pressing their advantage. Getting one over on her, a successful surprise attack – she could only think of three individuals that were close enough geographically to pull that off… and that didn’t even take into account those that would have the ability to do so.

Wiping her nose, Claire smiled when she realized that the world had finally come back into focus. Taking stock of her situation… and let’s be honest, Bruce would have a metaphorical coronary if he was witness to her letting someone get the drop on her, Claire glanced around the nameless back alley where she currently found herself. Ugh.

Taking a moment to center her thoughts, she stood and was pleasantly surprised to not feel any lingering effects from her apparent attack, and Claire only assumed she had been attacked. Why else would she have been on the ground against the back wall of a generic Chinese Take Out place, next to their dumpster, which by the smell hadn’t been picked up in over a week? Brushing her hands down the front of her clothing, she realized she wasn’t in uniform. Civilian clothing. Claire definitely needed to get in touch with Bruce or one of the others in case this was a planned attack. Technically, they were due some type of incursion considering how quiet the city had been, as of late.

She patted her back pocket and was very, very pleased to feel her wallet and her WayneTech Cell was still there. Pulling the latest version out, she looked directly at the screen for facial recognition and then attempted to make a call…, which, of course, failed. 

No bars. 

No service.

Well, that completely sucked.

Seeing that the alleyway was empty but for her, Claire decided to step out and into the street. She was on alert now, so the odds that she’d get taken by surprise again was next to nil. She held her cellphone aloft, searching for some type of signal… no luck so far, or maybe an open Wi-Fi signal somewhere – and considering who made this particular device, she was sure that once out in the open, her phone could connect to any number of roaming satellites in the heavens above.

After stepping out of the dark alley finally, she looked around to get a better bearing of where in Gotham City she currently was. Nothing looked familiar, but she hadn’t memorized the entire layout of the city like Bruce or Dick, yet. Barbara, either. 

A DING from her device notified her of a weak connection… finally. Claire quickly pushed ICE number one – Bruce. She frowned when the call failed. Calls to that number never failed. Never. After trying again with the same result, she went down the list. After Bruce was Dick. Then Barbara. Tim. Even Kate. All preprogrammed numbers failed. And not just failed, but on some, a digitalized voice told her the number dialed was not in service. Even actually dialing the numbers instead of trusting the preprogramming went nowhere. Claire needed answers.

Choosing a direction, she started walking down the street. Columbus Avenue. How unhelpful was that? Every city in America probably had some variant of that street name. Only thing that would have been worse would be First or Main. She put her phone in her back pocket, screw you Professor Moody, and considered using her powers to get a better view. Opting to not chance her being observed, the choice of flight or speed was tossed and she continued walking.

A window up ahead seemed to be for some type of local electronic store although she’d never heard of it. The display window had some serious bars to protect its wares, and the glass looked to be shatterproof. Definitely longtime residents to Gotham City. Claire took a moment to observe the twenty-four hour news channel that the televisions all seemed to be tuned in for window shoppers to peruse to entice them into the shop. The sound wasn’t actually muted, but simply turned low, so her hearing was able to pick up most of what was being said… but what actually was being relayed didn’t make any sense.

“…ust joining us, the Parahuman known as Vikare is dead.” The pretty newscaster on the screen seemed visibly shaken by her words. “The masked hero and often stylized Defender of Detroit was pronounced dead at the scene by emergency personnel, the apparent victim to a fatal blow to the head. Reports gathered at the scene all lend towards the idea that Vikare was attempting to quell the riot that had begun due to the Detroit Pistons losing to the Lakers in Game Three of the Championship, though officials have yet to confirm the current theory. Vikare’s secret identity is being withhe…”

She turned away from the screens and considered what she had witnessed. Apparently, Vikare had been killed, whether due to accident or intention, a hero was dead. But what hero? Who the hell was Vikare? Sure, she hadn’t been at this hero game that long, but the Defender of Detroit? Surely she would know who that was, right? Claire also chose to ignore the ticker at the bottom of the new screen. The date had read June tenth, nineteen eighty-nine. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

Maybe it had been a recording of an old report? But why would they do that? 

And still, who was Vikare?

Maybe it was from a movie or television show?

Moving at a bit more of a brisk pace, Claire pushed a little bit of power into her stride. It was late enough that no one was really watching, and if she was being followed by some supervillain, well… they’d knocked her out while in her secret identity. That cat was already out of the bag.

She was brought up short, however, once she reached what appeared to be some type of major intersection. The buildings weren’t as tall across the roadway, giving her a better view of the city. Definitely not Gotham City. Sure, it held a lot of similarities, but overall? Nope, not Gotham City. But even if she wasn’t home, her cellphone was supposed to work anywhere on Earth. Kate liked to joke it might even work on the Moon.

Over along the corner was a newspaper vending machine. Like, an actual stand where you dropped in a quarter and opened it up and took a newspaper out. And if not so honest, you could take more than one. Claire didn’t have a quarter, but she could always get Bruce to pay the city or whoever back for what she destroyed. She grabbed the handled and pulled. The door broke away easy, giving her free reign to grab the local periodical: Brockton Bay Globe.

Huh.

Where in the hell was Brockton Bay?

The paper’s stylized globe had Maine listed. Okay, Brockton Bay, Maine. Never heard of it, bit that didn’t mean anything in the greater scheme of things. There was millions of places that existed that she’d never heard of. Claire decided that she needed to focus on what was important… like who in the Hell was Vikare? Why did the newscast AND the paper both say it was nineteen eighty-nine? 

And what the ever freaking fuck was going on here?

Going over the newspaper as quickly as she could, there wasn’t really a lot that stood out other than a few mentions of various superheroes, always referred to as either Parahumans or Capes, with names that Claire didn’t recognize. Sure, some powers seemed similar. Costume styles and color schemes that seemed familiar, but it was as if she was in some weird, alternate version of…

Oh, shit. 

That was the answer.

She was in some alternate universe.

Looking around, Claire nodded. Sure, Gotham City wasn’t in Maine, but Brockton Bay seemed like some other reality’s version of Bruce’s city. There were heroes, though apparently not nearly as many and with different names and powers, but they were here. That meant that there had to be some way to eventually figure out what had happened. More than that, though, was that meant there was a way home.

Tossing the paper in the overfull trash can next to the newspaper dispenser; Claire took a deep breath and tried to think of what her next step should be. Would there be a Bruce Wayne here? Or a Justice League? When had they formed? She realized that she needed a way to get better answers. 

WHOOOP WHOOOP

At the sound, Claire could see the blue lights of a local police car had quietly drawn closer and had decided that a lone girl walking the streets at night in the big bad city was enough of a reason to investigate. She turned and offered a smile as both doors opened, allowing her to see two police officers getting out of their vehicle.

“Good evening, officers.” Claire offered, making sure to keep smiling. “Anything wrong?”

The one that got out from the driver’s side and nearest to her, a rather large and imposing man with dark skin and kind eyes, walked slowly towards where she stood. “Yes, ma’am. Are you okay?”

“I am. Thank you.” 

The other officer was slowly making his way around the front of their car. He was smaller and a bit rounder, older. His mustache reminded me of those old pornographic movies that her brother Hank liked to watch when he thought she was asleep. The guy looked a lot like what Claire expected a low budget cop movie would have as a background police officer.

“It’s not often we find many young ladies out at this time of morning, miss.” The first officer drew my attention back towards him. The implication that she might be a hooker was thankfully left unsaid. “Why are you out this late, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I…” What could I tell him? “I really don’t know.” Maybe honesty would work.

He was nodding, a soft smile on his face. “That’s fine. How about your name.”

“I’m Claire. Claire Clover.”

“Okay, Claire. How about I.D.? Do you have a license?”

And here is where things were going to go sideways. “I do.” As she started to reach towards my back pocket where Claire kept my wallet, the shorter officer’s right hand went to settle on the butt of his revolver. The superhero-in-disguise wasn’t necessarily worried, but she really had no clue as to the politics of Brockton Bay and really did not want to make an enemy of the police, no matter how ineffectual Bruce usually considered them.

“Easy.” The mustached officer said. She only nodded and made a show of moving very slowly. Claire pulled the wallet out and pulled the driver’s license out. If she was actually in some alternate reality, then it was worth about as much as a nickel… and an interesting thought; her cash, both paper and coinage, was probably all dated with future dates. Would they consider them counterfeit? 

Shorter officer stepped up and took the card from her hand. She watched as he used his flashlight to look it over before glancing up at the teenage girl. Claire knew that she was in trouble. “I’m gonna call this in, Jeff.”

The darker skinned officer, apparently Jeff, nodded though he kept his attention on her. “So, Claire. You said you weren’t sure why you are out this late?” Claire shrugged. “But you say that you are okay?” She nodded, although she listened to where the other officer was calling in the information. 

“Beta One-Seven-Three-Four Tango. I need you to run a Claire Olivia Clover. Number Six-Three-Three-Two-Three-Eight-Four-One out of New Jersey. Copy that. Pretty sure it’s fake. City listed is Gotham City. Zip code Zero-Seven-Zero-Zero-One-One. Thanks, Dispatch.”

“Can you tell me what day it is?”

Claire looked at Officer Jeff. “Saturday.”

“And the date?”

“June tenth. Maybe eleventh now if its morning.”

He nodded, satisfied, but then he hit her with a good one. “And the President’s name?”

She thought for a moment. Who was the American President in nineteen eighty-nine? “Uh, Bush?”

“George Bush?” He asked. I was fairly sure I was correct.

“Yeah.”

He smiled and nodded, but Claire could see in his eyes that she had been wrong. Damn alternate timelines. Before he could say anything further, his partner walked over. Claire wasn’t sure what Dispatch had answered since she had been answering questions.

“So, we have a problem.”

Jeff looked over. “Yeah? What kinda problem, Leo?” Officers Leo and Jeff. There was a comedy buddy-cop movie waiting to be written about these two someday. 

“I.D. isn’t any good.” Officer Leo turned to look at where the object of their curiosity stood. “Could you turn around and face the wall, please?”

“What?”

“Possession of false identification and presenting such to an officer, while not a horrible offense, is still a crime, Miss Clover. We are going to book you and take you to the station. We can run your fingerprints and, after a spending the rest of the weekend with us, a judge will set you a fine and you can be safely on your way.”

“Turn around, please.” Jeff repeated the early order.

Realizing that unless she wanted to reveal herself as a Cape in this world, she would need to follow their instructions. Claire moved around, carefully balancing against the wall and calmly waited. 

“Thank you.” Leo offered while Jeff did a polite but careful pat down. She was quickly relived of wallet, keys and cellphone. They made note of her bracelet and rings.

“W?” Leo questioned the back of my cellphone that displayed the WayneTech logo. Never heard of it. Some off brand? Or is it one of those new Tinkertech things that everyone’s been going so gaga over lately?”

She shrugged. “Was given to me by a friend. Never really questioned where he got it.”

“Huh.”

“Well, Miss Clover.” Officer Jeff Tisdale (last name on his uniform) carefully moved her arms behind her back so that he could handcuff Claire’s wrists together. “You have the right to remain silent. If…”

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Victory 01.02

Have you ever noticed how different police precincts are in real life as opposed to on television? Claire thought that this one where Officers Tisdale and Leo Giovani brought her into had to be the closest thing to an actual homeless shelter used as a police station she had ever seen. The precinct near Skid Row in Gotham City was in better shape. They showed her where the toilet was and she immediately thanked Bruce as if he were a god for ‘curing’ her eventual death by power. Claire could conceivably now ‘hold it’ until she could find somewhere more sanitary.

Ugh!

After her Rights had been read, Officer Leo took her belongings and safely stashed them away. Claire heard a remark regarding the fake money in her wallet. However, he sounded more surprised about it being paper than looking at the dates. 

I really needed a chance to investigate this new world I found myself.

Fingerprinting was fun. The wet wipes they offered to clean the ink barely worked. Claire’s photograph was taken, three sides, before she was escorted to a semi-private cell to await their confirmation of who she was. She hoped that there wasn’t a copy of her on this Earth… or if there was, that she was rich and had a better sense of humor than she did, otherwise, she was screwed.

Jeff did bring a battered and dog-eared copy of “Where the Sidewalk Ends” to read, so she was fairly content. Claire could use super-hearing to listen to the news that was on the television in their break room, so there was that, as well. Overall, her time locked up wasn’t going to be so bad, although when she inquired about the possibility of food, it seemed the options were limited to vending machine fare or a quick trip to a place called Fugly Bob’s… which, in truth, offered very little in the way of sounding okay. Seems its chips and soda for the win, tonight.

She dozed a bit, not really tired, but boredom won out. Awake, Claire found nothing had changed. Temporary life in a cage is the same apparently, no matter where you are. Brockton Bay, New York City or Gotham City. It was all the same. The only newness was that Leo and Jeff were off shift and she now had new cops to try to talk to, though they seemed less inclined to converse than the previous persons Claire could see.

Officer Jane Piggot.

Officer Piggot seemed like the typical girl next door all grown up. Early twenties. Mousy brown hair with eyes to match. Slim, but not to the point of being too skinny. Pretty enough to catch someone’s interest, yet still approachable. The girl you expected to do good because she was well rounded enough to realize not to depend on looks alone to get ahead in this world… that is if this reality worked the same as Claire’s own.

Breakfast was brought by Officer Piggot was at least of a better quality. A muffin with some fruit baked inside, along with cool eggs and some barely toasted toast with only a spoonful of jam. The orange juice was at least wet. Officer Piggot (first name Jane) watched the prisoner eat before taking the tray and leaving Claire to my solitude. She was also a bit easier on the eyes than some of the other people Claire had seen so far. How bad had eighties’ fashion actually been?

Why was a jail over the weekend in a city like this one so empty?

Hmmm…

“…vernor Blanchard was quoted as saying that in light of Vikare’s death last night that he would support President Dukakis’ pledge to push for legislation towards the formation of regulation and laws directed directly at the Parahum…”

“Turn that off.” A voice yelled, preventing me from listening to the current report. This world was so strange. Superheroes were a new thing. Under a decade or so according to the reports Claire had been able to piece together since being put in a cell. “I hate all this comic book crap.” The television station got moved to a rerun of some situation comedy she’d never heard of.

Claire wondered exactly who or what Scion was. There was a definite need to know more about him than for Vikare…, which sucked since Claire still really didn’t have a clue about him, either.

“Any leads on our guest in the back?” Oh. I wondered if they were now referring to me. It might be interesting to see if another me was out there.

“No.” It sounded like Officer Jane was the one answering. “No matches to her prints. There were three listings around the country for Claire Clovers, but none are a positive match. No reports of missing persons with her description. No BOLO’s. Regular Jane Doe, but that she’d awake and gave us a name.”

“Pull her out and put ‘er in Interrogation Three.” The voice remarked. “Fake I.D. is less than a misdemeanor, but I’d like to know about her things.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. That cell is gotta be that new stuff. What’s it called? Tinkertech? Yeah. Tinkertech. I took a picture and sent it up the chain. Apparently, there’s that hotshot new Cape from New York that wants it.” 

Jane’s voice was hesitant. “Can we just give her property away like that?”

“Nah.” He grunted. “But if I can shake a confession or get something from her, we might make a case for withholding its return.”

“Oh.”

“Besides, her license is strange, too. I’ve seen forgeries and this looks legit. It’s even got the hologram stamp over the photo.”

“It is a fake, though, right?”

“Yeah. Did you see it?” There was nothing verbal offered, but the woman also known as Gotham Girl could hear movement. She assumed the Ofifcer Jane shook her head in the negative and he was showing it to her, whether actually or as a copy, Claire had no idea. She probably should have flown away from Leo and Jeff. This was getting more convoluted the longer the hero sat here. “Check it out.”

“What am I looking for?”

“Check the dates.”

“Why would…? They’re for twenty years in the future!”

“They are. Funny thing, too. The I.D. number? Jersey’s numbers don’t go that high yet. Again, not scheduled to get to that number until somewhere around twenty fourteen or so.”

“Wha?”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “Think we got us a time traveler?”

“You’re not serious.” Another voice joined the conversation. Claire glanced towards the wall separating them from where she sat. Her eyes twisted in focus and the other room became clearer. She could see Officer Piggot sitting at a computer while two male officers stood by her chair. “You think she might be involved with the Parahumans?”

“Damned if I know.” The first cop she had been talking to spoke. “Whole world has gone crazy, it seems. What was it? Eighty-three when that cruise ship found Scion? Naked as his birthday, just floating over the ocean?” Everyone laughed while Claire listened. “Then we get all these yokels running around with powers. Flying pansies in colored tights with capes and people wearing armor that can shoot lasers. Did ya read the report about the portal to another Earth?”

Claire perked up at what he was saying now. 

“Earth Ala or something?”

She watched as the older officer talking the most nodded. “Aleph. Yeah. Seems they got some Parahumans, too, though even less than us.”

Fewer and weaker? That didn’t seem like her home reality, although Claire wasn’t the greatest at history. If she’d gone back in time, who was active twenty years ago? Claire thought about what she knew and realized that while the Earth Aleph that they were referring to was most likely not her way home, the fact that there were portals to other Earths was a great starting point for getting back to her Earth.

Which was the better option at this point? Let them continue to make guesses at her origin? Or should she come clean?

The sound of the hallway door being unlocked brought the shorthaired blonde-haired young woman back to the present. The younger make officer, Mitchell by his nametag, offered her a smirk as he pulled a key to open her cell door.

“All right, Miss Clover. The Captain wanted to ask you a few questions.”

She silently nodded and allowed him to cuff her wrists before he escorted her out towards the main room and then through the opposite hallway. Together, the two passed a couple of closed doors before going into the third one. She noted that there were a lot of people in the building now as opposed to how empty it had seemed last night. 

“Here we go.” Officer Mitchell threaded her cuffs though a place on top of the table to keep her secure before moving back towards the door. “The Captain and Officer Piggot will be in in a moment. Would you like some water or something else to drink?”

“No. Thank you.”

At Claire’s response, he nodded and closed the door, leaving her alone in the room. The mirror across the table and most likely where a room was able to observe interrogations ought to be. She took a moment to check out her current appearance. Her blonde hair, barely grown out, looked good considering it had not seen a comb or brush in nearly twenty-four hours. No makeup, though her brother’s occasional girlfriends had often lamented how lucky she was to not need to much. Clear skin, very lightly tanned. Bright blue eyes. She just wished she didn’t look so young. Nineteen, but looking barely sixteen. And after Bruce found her a cure, she’d probably look this way for a while if the Boy Scout’s cousin was anything to go by. That girl had been active as a superhero for years and still looked to be in high school.

The door opened after she waited about fifteen minutes or so. A delaying tactic, maybe? Or a way to make her more nervous? Claire watched Officer Jane enter first, a thin folder under her arm. The older cop followed her. The Captain, most likely. Both took a moment to pull out a chair and sit. No one spoke. In fact, no one looked towards where Claire comfortable waited. Claire waited until the Captain seemed ready to speak and then decided to take control of the situation.

“I might be a time traveler.” She enjoyed their shocked faces. “I don’t really know. I do appear to be from a different Earth, though form your brief description earlier I doubt its Earth Aleph. How many other Earth’s is this one in contact with?”

Jane was covering her mouth with her hand, apparently trying to hide her amusement at Claire’s statement. The Captain… well, he seemed quite put out.

“And, no.” She glared at the only male in the room. “You cannot take possession of my cellphone. That’s quite important to me, even if the design won’t work with the cellular network here. I’ve got tons of photos saved on there that are important to me.”

“How did…? What are you…?” He kept trying to start asking questions, but he seemed unwilling or unable to complete one for her to answer. “When did…?”

Claire sighed. “How did I know what you planned? I heard you. I have better than average hearing. What are you? I hope there was more to that. Asking what I am seems a bit rude. However, I am an enhanced female from what I assume is a different Earth. I say that because there’s not a Brockton Bay, Maine in the United States that I’m from.” Claire leaned her head down so that she could scratch her nose. Damn, but being cuffed limited your movement. “When did I… decide to stop pretending to be normal? Once I heard you talking about all of what’s going on in the world here, I realized that anything I hoped to accomplish to get home might mean I needed to try a different tack. We good?”

When he seemed to continue being unable to respond, Claire looked to where Officer Piggot sat, humor still evident upon her face. Claire shrugged. “Thoughts?”

Jane stood and pulled the Brockton Bay Police Captain from his chair. Claire watched the two of them exit the room. She considered listening in to the conversation, but ultimately deemed it unnecessary. While she waited, she pulled the stainless steel cuffs apart and set them down on the table before rubbing her wrists. They did not hurt, but the metal made her skin itch. She didn’t have a chance to put the cuffs back on before the door opened again.

Once they had reseated themselves and each judiciously ignoring that she was now unrestrained, the meeting began again.

“My apologies.” He began. “This is Officer Jane Piggot. My name is Captain Samuel Rodgers.”

“Claire Clover.”

He nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose. “So, let’s go over everything. Is that okay with you? Since you’ve decided to be frank with us?” At my silent nod, he took the file folder from Officer Jane and opened it in front of him. It didn’t hold very much inside. “At approximately one forty-three Sunday morning on June eleventh, Officers Tisdale and Giovani approached you at the intersection of Columbus and Highway One. Is that correct?”

“Sounds right.” She confirmed.

‘And at that time, after you identified yourself, they asked for identification. Yes?” Claire nodded. “And after assuming the identification was fabricated falsely, you were placed under arrest for possession of a fake I.D. and presenting such to law enforcement officers.”

Even though it was not stated as a question, Claire answered anyway. “That is correct.”

“And you did not identify yourself as a Parahuman why?”

At his question, she tilted her head to consider how best to answer. “Is it the general policy here to publicly declare yourself as a superhero?”

“Superhero?” Jane interjected. 

“Term used where I come from.” She responded, though she kept her attention on Captain Rodgers. “I saw on the news where Vikare’s identity is being withheld even though he died, and nothing I’ve heard or seen so far indicates that Parahumans here, all of whom I’ve seen so far wear masks of some type, go without protecting their names and faces. Why would I have admitted to such?”

He grimaced at her question. Claire simply waited. 

“Fine.” The captain begrudgingly offered the concession. “So, you changed your mind…”

“After I heard enough to safely determine that this is not my home reality AND you were talking about sending one of the few things I can safely claim as my own on this Earth of yours to some busybody in New York.” He opened his mouth to most likely defend himself, but Claire pressed forward. “Who wants my phone, anyway?”

The Captain sighed. “A Cape that calls himself Hero.”

Claire let out a bark of a laugh before she could catch herself. “Hero? That’s ambitious.”

Officer Piggot leaned forward. “Apparently, Parahumans seems to have no sense of modesty. Another big Cape goes by Legend.”

Claire sat back in her chair. “Oh, my. Really?”

Jane tilted her head. “What kinda names do… what did you call them? Superheroes. What kind of names do Superheroes on your Earth use?”

“Not much better, actually, but a hero going by Hero? Or Legend? Those sound like they’re just asking for the bad guys to jump them.”

“And yours is?”

At Jane’s insistence, Claire relaxed a bit. “My Earth has had people with powers for decades. Maybe centuries.” She ignored their incredulous looks. “In American History, you’ve got the Justice Society of America. Sandman and the original Green Lantern. The Flash. The Atom. They were all pretty big after World War One. The Second World War threw everything into a tizzy. They tried to reform after, but the world was different. It was decades until a new team formed, and by that time, the JLA was there.”

“The JLA?” Captain Rodgers asked.

‘Yeah. The Justice League of America. Superman and Batman and Wonder Woman. Aquaman and the new Flash. Green Lantern, the second one. Cyborg. And so many others later.”

“Aquaman? Really? Mexican water man? What did he do, use squirt guns at you?”

She nodded. “His name might be lame, but he’s powerful. Commands all ocean life. Anything that lives in the water, really. Imagine control over all of that? You think that a bunch of fish means little, but imagine being in the water and hundreds or thousands of fish come at you? At some point, numbers start to mean victory. King of Atlantis, after all.”

“That’s a better title.” When Claire looked at her, Jane’s eyes widened. “Atlantis is real?”

“On my world? Yeah. Here? No clue.” She offered glibly.

Captain Rodgers leaned forward. “This League thing is interesting. Did it help keep things in check?”

“Somewhat.” She answered honestly. “They formed a team so that they could work together on the big, bad threats. World ending threats. But, yeah, It helped to make sure no one went too far one way or the other. It also helped spawn some younger teams. Helped train them.”

“How did your world survive the constant fights between the powered heroes and villains? We’ve had Parahumans only for a few years and society is already seeming to fracture around the edges where these Capes seem to congregate most often. Big cities have larger law enforcement teams, as well as budgets, but Brockton Bay seems to attract a bunch and we’re a lot smaller. The police have only had to deal with this stuff for a few years. You say that yours has been surviving for decades. How?”

Claire spread her hands outwards. “No idea. Batman, my mentor I guess you could say, he always theorized that the more powerful and successful the Superhero, the more the crazies came out to challenge them. It’s kind of a vicious cycle.”

“Why not quit, then?” He asked.

“A great question.” Claire offered. “But think of all that the Superheroes, or Parahumans in this case, successfully accomplish. There are horrors that you need them to take care of. Natural disasters? I watched Superman save thousands from an earthquake. Wonder Woman stopped a volcano from destroying a city. The problem is that the bad guys get powers, too, and they think that means they can do whatever they want. The heroes with powers step up to stop them.

“My brother was a… Cape, if you will, as well. He did a lot a good before he died. Sadly, he also did some bad things. Ultimately, we have to hope that there’s a balance somewhere and that, in the end, it balances on the side of good. He sacrificed himself for me, I’d like to think.”

Jane nodded. “I’d be nice to keep my Mom and sister Emily safe from things like this. We need someone to help us be better prepared.”

“And what’s your plan?”

Claire looked at the Captain. At their shared look, Claire started shaking her head in the negative. “Nuh-uh. No way. I want to go home. This isn’t my place.”

They both stared a ther. “And until then? Think you could help us get a handle on our new world?” He shook his head as he offered an explanation for his thoughts. “Ever since that golden guy was found flying above the waters of the Atlantic, things have been spiraling towards something. Reports coming in from all over about vigilantes in costumes until a couple of years ago when Vikare and guys like him came outta the shadows and announced that they were here.” 

“Megalith and Samuree. Armor and Silver Streak. Toy Boy.” Jane continued to name off heroes that meant absolutely nothing to Claire. “We can’t handle them.”

“My mentor always planned for when the ones with the most power would need to be handled.” Claire interpreted. Both Rodgers and Piggot were nodding.

“Exactly.” He agreed. “How can I convince you to help us?”

Ah. 

Quid pro quo.

Got it.

Claire offered them both a slight smile. “Let’s say that we eliminate those records with my name. Pull the photo you took. Take a hit and claim that the tech was a joke, a kid’s toy, and scrub my name. Let’s leave me out of your Parahumans’ drama. I can help you guys train and be ready for whatever comes to Brockton Bay and ya’ll help get me info on these Portals to different Earths. Deal?”

“What else can you do besides hear conversations in other rooms and apparently pick the locks on handcuffs?” Rodgers asked.

Claire smiled her Gotham Girl smile. “Oh, a few other things…”

Captain Rodgers smiled over towards Jane. “Get Mitchell and tell him we need some coffee. Not that crap in the breakroom. Tell him to go get some from the Diner down the street.”

She and Officer Piggot shared a smile.

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Victory 01.03

Claire often thought about a long ago conversation that she had with Selina back before the thief had tried to break Bruce’s heart. The femme fatale said that time was a funny, mysterious thing. How waiting for just a few scant seconds, a moment or two between heartbeats, could last forever, while the passing of a year could fly by faster than the Flash could run. They had shared a laugh, her drinking some god-awfully expensive wine from one of the many Wayne wine cellars available and Claire with a Diet Cherry Seven Up. 

How very cosmopolitan of us, right?

Her meaning went over the young hero’s head then. Probably would’ve gone over it again now, but for the fact that she could understand Miss Kyle’s lamentation’s underlying meaning. It’s made worse that Bruce’s prediction that Claire would live a Kryptonian lifespan now due to that magical space rock that keeps her forever young while the rest of this new world continues on. Selina’s warning was that time moved on, no matter how one chose to perceive it. Often, one could not choose.

It was to Claire’s detriment that time seemed to choose to go by in the blink of an eye. One moment they are hunched over that Interrogation Room table making plans to create the first all human team trained to handle Parahuman problems and the next, the United States Parahuman Response Team is active across the country, with thoughts of going global.

North America and Western Europe. Australia, too.

And Jane is now the Police Chief of the precinct. 

Rodgers is the Deputy Police Commissioner for all of Brockton Bay. Sadly, his boss isn’t named Gordon. 

Tisdale was killed in the line of duty. Domestic disturbance gone wrong.

Giovani retired, full benefits. He runs a bar two corners down from the precinct. Badges get half off after midnight.

And Claire Clover? 

Well, the displaced traveler from another reality and time put into action the ultimate goal that Bruce often lamented over during those late not conversations that everyone had to practically sign NDA’s over; Claire got to train a small division of the city’s police department regarding the correct and proper way to deal with idiots and morons with superpowers.

They introduced her to the Brockton Bay Police Commissioner. A severe looking man named Bullock that sported a military cut hairstyle that matched his gloomy disposition and gravelly voice… most likely due to the giant cigar gripped firmly between yellowed teeth And while he was not let in on her true origin, it was made known that she had trained under a specialist that knew his stuff. Claire had a few hoops to jump through, but after going ten for ten on his tests, the Mayor was brought in and money for the project was located. The Science Division of the Brockton Bay Police Department was officially ready to begin.

Captain Rodgers was given a working budget that allowed for ten officers. Claire went through the files of every city employee that could possibly cut it on a team designed to watch over the man and women that now were considered next to gods.

How were these mere mortals meant to stand toe-to-toe against the likes of Eidolon or Alexandria? Jack Slash or even Gray Boy?

Both Rodgers and Piggot were out. Claire needed them where they were. No, the former Gotham City vigilante needed a group that worked together, could learn together. Would bond together… and she eventually found them, her team. She trained them like Bruce might have if he was here looking over her shoulder. They hated her, but at the one-year mark, the BBPD had their own Science Division, whose mandate was to be the first responder to any and all police interactions with Capes in the city.

And just in time, too. 

Parahuman crimes took a steep climb across the country. Powers and the need for some type of regulation was on everyone’s minds and opinions created heated clashes at any place where large numbers of people chose to gather. The BBPD Science Division earned its place after the first month of going public, especially after they made National news due to the capture of All-Father, the Cape leader of the Empire Eighty-eight Gang.

Word began spreading of the Science Division’s effectiveness, and soon they were expanding to all precincts across Brockton Bay. Their core members were being constantly asked to accept speaking and training engagements in other cities. Washington, D.C. soon came a calling, as well. 

Just four years after Claire’s arrival within this new universe, a nationally funded new agency that would be equal to the CIA, FBI and NSA was created. Their charter was to work directly with the Parahumans newly formed team, The Protectorate. To watch over the Capes. To ensure that they didn’t go too far over the line. That there was a sense of checks and balances.

The Parahuman Response Team.

Claire hated the idea of a U.S. Government sponsored agency watching, rather than something closer to the ground. In the cities. Bruce never trusted politicians and their agendas, but he was more likely willing to work with those he could interact with, face-to-face. Once the Nation’s Capital got involved, he often argued that he’d need to take on several sub-committees before ever learning the name of who knew where to look for the guy with answers. 

In this case, she agreed wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, just a few months prior to the introduction of the Protectorate and its human counterpoint, the PRT, Claire foolishly involved herself in the first encounter with Hadhayosh, which took her out of much of the planning and other long-term goals that she and Piggot and Rodgers had in motion…

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Considering the fact that Christmas Day was less than two weeks off, Emily should have been in her usual depressive funk (boyfriend drama) trying to convince her sister’s husband to find wherever her sister had hidden the good candy. Along with the annual tradition, this year would be suffering along with both nephews because the weather during their break from school would be as horrible as it was currently… no end in sight. This year was a Nor’easter storm that meteorologists all over were saying was one for the books. 

Record snowfall and high tides. 

Millions without power. 

Hundreds already thought to be dead.

It should have been the topic of discussion, but for the fact that life on Earth Bet meant that a killer storm was shuffled off from possibly being the top new story of the hour. Instead, Emily and the family and friends all gathered on this miserable excuse for a Sunday had ordered the younger kids to their bedrooms moments ago so that the adults could all huddle in terror around the television and witness the next horror to be faced. She was ever-so-thankful that at sixteen, she apparently made the cut to be an adult rather than a high school junior on holiday break.

The images coming out of Marun Fields had initially made no sense whatsoever. The original four of the Protectorate… Hero, Legend, Alexandria and Eidolon, they had all already been in Iran for humanitarian aid. The region had suffered greatly over the past few days, plagued with unexplained earthquakes nonstop. Devastation everywhere. A somewhat noteworthy news piece not especially interesting or worth the film reel used to record the event in many eyes… until Hell rose out from the ground in an explosion of oil and flame and death.

What was that thing?

The assembled adults all watched as Legend was batted away like and errant insect. Eidolon’s attempts at doing whatever he was trying all seemed useless. A few Parahumans that Emily had no name for were on the ground around the monster, their bodies obviously broken. It was horrific to see the brightly costumed bodies all around, much like discarded toys on the living room floor.

Emily sat on the sofa, her eyes refusing to leave the screen, all the while desperately clutching her sister’s hand within her own. She watched Jane and one of her sister’s friend from work both trying in vain to get someone on either of their cellular phones to pick up. Idly, she noted that her brother-in-law, Lawrence (call me Larry, please), was using the landline to try to get someone down at City Hall to answer. From the way he kept hanging up and then redialing, Emily safely assumed he was having about as much luck as everyone else – none. Her eyes naturally drifted over to the left where the woman, not much older than Emily herself… Claire something, was having a very lively and heated discussion with Stephen.

“…nd what will you do, huh? That’s the goddamned Protectorate on the T.V.” The man expected to be next in line for the Chief of Police for the entire city of Brockton Bay pointed at the images no one wanted to believe were real. “I’ve listened to your stories about all you can do, but you’re just one woman.”

Claire nodded while she was busy pulling her long blonde hair into a tight ponytail. Even from where Emily sat, she could see the attractive woman’s determination. “Yeah. Well, I maybe underplayed all that I can do. You can’t expect me to sit this one out.”

“I damn well can!” He huffed. “I’ll order you to stay.”

Claire was so much shorter than Stephen Rodgers, but Emily noted that at that moment, the college aged girl seemed so much more. She lifted her hand and placed it on the man’s shoulder. “This is what I do.”

“Not here, you don’t.”

Not here?

“You’re right. I haven’t. But maybe I should have. And this may be a onetime thing.” She walked over to where Jane had stopped trying to make calls to the station. Her sister and Claire hugged. Emily noted that Jane had moisture in her eyes.

Stephen threw his hands up in the air. “You don’t believe that.”

Was Jane crying?

“Do you want something to hide with?” Jane asked softly. Not waiting for a response, she turned to Emily. “Go get one of your Halloween costumes from your closet.”

“My what?”

“Go, Em. Hurry. Just bring the masks, okay?”

She got up from the sofa, extremely freaked out. She hurried upstairs to the room her sister had set aside for her to use when she stayed. Why did Jane want part of a costume? Why a mask? 

Could she mean…?

After finding a couple of choices, the teenager returned to the living room. Nothing seemed changed, but the atmosphere seemed different. Heavier, maybe. She held out the three options that had been easiest to locate. Her sister smiled as the elder Piggot sister offered Claire a vulpine grin.

“So, we have a basic domino in dark blue. Or maybe the classic Zero Patrol white with black accents.”

“You’re enjoying this too much, Jane.”

Her sister shook her head. “No I am not. I’m terrified, actually, Claire. I think this is foolish and reckless and you should let them handle it.”

“Jane, you know why I…”

Stephen drew closer. “The Science Division needs you. Washington is poking around. This isn’t the time to…”

“And when would be the right time?”

He started to answer, but his eyes travelled over to stare at Emily. Busted. The three adults all seemed to realize that maybe she shouldn’t be witness or a party to whatever they were discussing. The teenager offered a hesitant smile. “I always liked the dark blue. And, I bet it will go great with your eyes and hair.”

Claire offered her a smile. It was an amazing smile. 

“Thanks.” She took the offered domino mask and placed it over her eyes. 

Emily looked at the woman then. Really looked. She was dressed in a pair of black cargo pants with plain white sneakers. Her shirt was blue and short sleeved, despite the weather outside. Before, she was just her sister’s young friend from work. Now, though… with the cheap mask covering the top past of her face, she seemed so much more.

How was that possible?

Claire offered Emily a nod. “Watch the T.V.” She said to the others. “It’s been a while, but you should see something soon.”

And then the front door opened and her sister’s friend was gone. Emily tried to make sense of what she was now confronted with. Her sister knew a Parahuman? A Parahuman that wasn’t out there is a costume fighting villains? And apparently thought was strong enough, fast enough… powerful enough to make a difference on the other side of the world?”

Jane’s arms encircled her shoulders. Emily looked at her slightly shorter sister. “I don’t understand.” She admitted.

“I guess not. There’s some papers I’m going to need you to sign.”

“Mom says…”

“Mom won’t know.” Jane interrupted. “You’re sixteen. This is important, Em.”

She opened her mouth to answer, to say that she understood and was old enough for whatever needed to be done, but Larry called out before Emily could give voice to any assurance that she’d do what needed to be done. Larry gestured with his chin towards the television as he handed Jane a glass of what appeared to be a whiskey. He handed Emily a glass full of the good candy. She offered a brief smile to him. She was glad Jane had found Larry.

Since they’d all last really paid any real attention to the battle taking place across the world, the situation seemed worse than ever. Fighter jets streaked across the skies, missiles exploding on the creature. No obvious effect. A camera swung along the oil fields, wreckage of trucks and tanks and other large military machines littered the battlefield. In-between all of it, there were costumed heroes throwing charges of lightning and lasers of assorted colors against the behemoth. A ticker along the screen’s bottom was referring to it as Hadhayosh. Emily had absolutely no clue as to where its name had originated. 

Was this something they’d seen before?

The images and sound weren’t synced, so what they could watch and what they could listen to seemed to be a few seconds off. They watched as Alexandria went in for a body shot across the creature’s back, only to be thwarted by its twisting away... almost as if it knew exactly what the Protectorate member was attempting to do. Legend seemed down, while Hero threw balls of colored lights all around.

The creature…. Hadhayosh… was suddenly down on its back. What? The scene offered by the camera shook, while all of those Capes all up in the sky seemed caught in some type of backwash of something very fast passing by them. A streak of… something zipped past through everyone, headed directly at the monster. Her brain caught up with the moment to realize that something, someone, had hit it and actually put in on the ground. Then the sound caught up, with the image.

Wwwwwwwwhhhhooooooooooosssssssssssshhhh… 

BOOOOMM!!!!!!

Emily felt her jaw drop open as she saw a lone figure floating above where Hadhayosh was laying. She felt her mouth dry up as the camera finally stabilized and offered a quickly zoomed view of the woman floating there, her dark blue masked face looking down at the creature.

Claire had arrived.

“Oh, my god!” The reporter screamed into the microphone. “Did you see that? Oh, wow, did you see that? A Cape. It was a god damned Cape. He… no, she. She just hit the beast and its down! Oh. My. God.”

“Perry?” The scene of the screen split, offering the viewers the ability to see the action, as well as the local talent that were safe here at home. The generically handsome anchor was looking to the left of the camera… possibly watching, too. “Perry? Do you recognize who that is? Any idea who did it?”

“No, Dan. Sorry.” His voice still shook. Emily wanted to laugh. The world would all want to know who that was, and the woman had just been talking to her, drinking her sister’s soda. What kind of world was this? “The flying woman doesn’t seem to be wearing a uniform of any kind. In fact, I think she’s just wearing a mask.”

Yeah. My mask.

“Cap?” At her sister’s speaking, Emily turned to watch Jane, Larry and Stephen.

The older man shook his head. “I never realized. She doesn’t talk about it much. But, geez. Did you see that?”

Larry gulped at his drink. “How powerful is she, exactly?”

“Before tonight? I’d have said a smidge above Alexandria. She’s got the basics… flight, strength and invulnerability. However, she also can do lasers of a type like Legend. A few other tricks, as well. Perfect for training the team against the regular assortment.”

“And now?”

“Now?” Stephen stood and walked over to the kitchen to refill his drink. Emily stayed quiet and listened while she watched the T.V. The creature was back up, but the heroes had all rallied around Claire. The news crews all seemed more optimistic. “Now I think she knew that if she revealed how much power she had, we’d never have agreed to the plan.”

“That’s not true.” Jane spoke up again. “We needed what she knew. Claire had the knowhow that could give us the best chance to counter their powers.”

“Not hers.” Larry said.

Jane watched the screen. “No, not hers. But where would we find someone that could go against that?”

Emily tuned the rest of the conversation out. The action on the T.V. was much more interesting. All of the Capes seemed bent on offering what they could, but the truth was that it really came down to the Core Four of the Protectorate and Claire. It seemed obvious, from her position as an armchair quarterback, to understand their plan of attack. Legend directed Hadhayosh in the direction he wanted while Alexandria and Claire wailed on the monster. Hero provided support, which left Eidolon alone to do his magic. It took another fifteen minutes before the cloaked hero did something that seemed to defeat the creature.

The day was saved.

Emily watched as the surviving heroes and people all around began to cheer. Even the anchors behind the desk were clapping. Everyone was happy. And everyone seemed hell-bent to get as close to Claire as possible. Another camera seemed determined to stay locked onto the blonde-haired hero, offering no immediate chance for escape. The Core Four were particularly insistent to not let her get away without talking to them first.

Would Claire join the Protectorate?

Idly, she wondered if Jane would let her get to know Claire. 

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Interlude A

“See? There it is again.” The dark skinned woman pointed at the monitor. Her finger shook, though from nervousness or excitement, was up for debate. The assembled persons around the table kept their attention riveted to the speaker’s words. “Look at his face. Right there. Every time, without fail. It’s not like with you, David… or you, Rebecca. He might not like either of you, but he despises this girl. Loathes her.”

“You think she drank a vial?” The man once considered for the leadership of the Slaughterhouse Nine steepled his hands in front of his face. “Maybe one of those that Manton stole?”

Contessa sighed from her where she was seated to the left of the Doctor. “No. I have accounted for the ones Dr. Manton relived from our inventory. Even if he’d attempted a successful blend of two or more vials, even up to four, there is no logical way that the power set that this woman exhibits would be there. Anything more would result in certain death.”

Kurt nodded. “A projection like his Siberian then?” The mathematician ignored Rebecca’s flinch at the mere mention of the striped villain. Ah, yes… Hero’s death and Alexandria’s defeat. Too soon, he supposed. “We have seen how such a power can ignore the basic laws of nature and physics. A creatively vivid enough imagination and maybe someone like her could be the result.”

“But unlike power projections we’ve seen in others, this one has the full range of emotional responses, not to mention verbal communication and apparent cognitive function.” The room looked at Rebecca at her words, each considering the problem from their own unique perception.

“We have postulated that a Trigger and the imbibing of a vial will not work. Could we have been mistaken?” David offered the room. “I know we tend to disregard that which we believe to be impossible, but perhaps the wrong variables were utilized to come to that conclusion.”

“I disagree.” Contessa stated before David’s hypothesis could gain any traction. “We cannot begin doubting the basis of our work. Consider the Doctor’s work up to the present time. If the consensus is that what we know, actually know, through careful and methodical experimentation over these many years is wrong then our entire purpose can be considered exclusively flawed and we would be forced to start over at the very beginning.”

“And that’s such a bad thing?” Keith asked.

The Doctor sighed as she returned to her seat. “We would be talking about destroying everything. All test subjects would be rendered obsolete. You and the other quote unquote successful cases would be removed as a control. The Fifty-threes would need to be eliminated. Quietly, preferred, but with the size of their population on Earth Bet alone… it would be noticed. The vials also gotten rid of.”

Legend scowled at references to the Case Fifty-threes. He had only recently been made aware of this group’s involvement in their creation.

“Eden.” Rebecca whispered.

“And Eden.” The woman that was often referred to as Mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “We have based our entire purpose, our very lives, upon a singular theory. We cannot falter. Our knowledge of what is to come is absolute. To question everything simply because of a single Parahuman is unthinkable.”

“But Scion has a physical reaction to her presence. Mayhap her very existence.” The Number Man spoke softly. “There are no calculations that I can reasonably come up with that offers a why to his apparent dislike.”

“What if she’s not sharing a link with either entity?” David questioned after a few moments of silence. “We know that those enhanced from Eden are looked upon with suspicion, which we concluded after careful reasoning when comparing multiple interactions with Capes.”

“True.” Legend nodded along with his ally and friend. “Once we factored in the origin of the Parahumans he was displeased with, it made sense that enhanced persons created by drinking a vial were what was upsetting him.”

“Therefore, if he is upset with Cauldron Capes, maybe there is a third entity out there.”

Rebecca summed it up best. “What a horrifying thought.”

“Agreed.”

“Definitively.” Legend offered.

The Doctor tapped her finger on the table, her gaze towards Doormaker and The Clairvoyant, both of whom sat quietly observing. “Still no idea of how she is avoiding you?”

The two shared a look before the creator of portals to nearly anywhere in the known universe shook his head. He nervously met several people’s gazes. “No. This girl… it is as if she does not actually exist. I reach, but there is nothing there.”

His silent partner nodded at Doormaker’s explanation.

“Contessa?”

The fedora-wearing woman shrugged. “Nothing. I think of how best to deal with her and my mind loses focus. I find myself considering other things. Other problems.”

“Such as?”

At the Chief Director’s query, the mysterious sometimes assassin closed her eyes. “The first time I actively attempted to discover a course of action, I found myself in the kitchen baking bread.”

“Baking bread?”

The woman nodded. “The next time I chose to employ agents to allow for a more concerted effort with no distractions.”

“Not successful?”

“No.” She answered simply. 

“I see.” David leaned back in his chair. He looked over to where Rebecca sat. “And still no headway towards her joining the Protectorate?”

“Not really. On those few occasions that I was able to converse with her, she seemed pleasant and very helpful. She politely answered my queries and, on those attempts to gather information of a more personal nature, she simply declined to answer.”

“And spying on her?”

“She seems knowledgeable enough regarding how Tinkertech works to circumvent the latest indentations our best and brightest have brought to the table to catch her. Their creations either fail or are somehow discovered.” The current leader of the PRT smiled. “Last year, a new Protectorate recruit, codenamed Armsmaster, offered a tracking device so small that it required one of the stronger microscopes we had in the lab to even see it.”

“Another failure?” Legend was the one to ask.

“It was delivered via the United States Postal Service addressed to the Houston PRT one day after successfully placed upon her person.”

From where he sat, David guffawed. “Is that what that letter was all about? The one that got you so upset?”

Rebecca nodded.

“I really would like to talk to her.” The Doctor said with a deep sigh. “She has been instrumental in the defeat of the Endbringers, creating enough damage for David to strike the final blow each time.”

“Four so far.” The hero currently labelled the Slayer of Endbringers smiled. “We make a good team, whoever she is.”

“Maybe we draw her out.” Contessa spoke up. “There are a few different scenarios that could be encouraged. Not an Endbringer, but a serious enough threat and she might appear.”

Keith’s brow drew downwards. “I dislike setting up any situation that might lead to the loss of innocent lives. Are we any better than the villains we claim to defend against if we allow for a potentially serious threat to go unheeded, all in the hopes of drawing out a hero that has stood with us time and time again?”

“We need her.”

At the Doctor’s insistence, Legend retorted back quickly. “Well, if we do, how are you going to explain the setup to get to her? You think it is bad now? You are all deluding yourselves. What happens when you turn an unknown ally into a known enemy?”

“We won’t let that happen.”

The leader of the Triumvirate, so named since their fourth had died, stood. “Yeah, I’ll remind you of those very words when this all comes back to bite us on the ass.” He shook his head. “Door home.”

They all watched as he left them to consider their plan.

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000…

Victory 01.04

“Come on, Em.” Claire laughed while holding the punching bag. “Your sister hits harder than that and she sits behind a desk all day now. Stop trying to hit the bag. Hit the bag.”

“Fuck you.” Lieutenant Emily Piggot retorted as she threw another left jab. Best friend or not, she was not going to let the hero-in-secret get the best of her through smack talk. “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.”

Claire laughed. “You kiss your sister with that mouth?”

“Nope. I did, however…” Hit. Hit. Jab. Jab. “Have it go down on Ke…”

“Hey. Hey. Hey.” The blonde-haired woman currently dressed in PRT gym clothes blushed. “Not in front of the children. I don’t wanna hear about your hookup last night.”

Emily jabbed the bag a few more times, her arms beginning to feel the strain. “Yeah. Fuck them, too. If none of you can’t handle a bit of lesbo talk, they can transfer out.”

The younger looking of the two shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

“I think.” Uppercut. Left roundhouse. “Last night proved just how possible I am for the right kinda girl.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Ugh. Incorrigible, then.”

“Eh. I’ll take it.”

Emily stood up straight, her arms pleasantly sore from the workout. She caught the towel that Claire threw her way. “You want to throw a few?”

“Nah.” She lifted her right arm and flexed, the muscles clearly defined.

Playfully scowling at the shorter woman, Emily rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, not all of this can be blessed with a superhuman physique. So unfair.” She mumbled behind the towel. She knew Claire would hear her anyway.

“Come on.” She looped her arm through the other’s. “Let’s see if Roberto made a new pot of coffee.”

“How can you drink that stuff?”

“Coffee is wonderful.” Claire argued.

Emily scrunched her nose in obvious distaste. “Coffee? Yeah. That stuff Martinez makes? I give that stuff to Maintenance to clean the boiler in the basement.”

The two PRT officers made their way around the other agents busy working out and made their way towards the locker room. It had been a hard won victory, Emily being out and gay while still being a part of the New York Parahuman Response Team… even more so considering Emily was working her way up the leadership ladder. Claire had watched how her roomate fended off offers by the PR Department to use her as showing how inclusive the team could be.

No way. No how.

“You could take me to Bruno’s Café.” Claire offered. “You like the coffee served there.”

“Don’t like the cost much.” She retorted. “Maybe you should think about making a thermos at home and bringing it to work.”

“That sounds like work.”

Em looked as if she had a retort ready, but the scene they walked into… the break room that had to be passed through to reach the lockers, was full of officers all gathered around one of the tables. It looked as if there was the potential for employee-on-employee strife. And not a higher ranked officer in sight. The lieutenant grunted. Claire offered her a commiserating glance in silent support before she separated from her roommate.

Emily walked forwards carefully. She silently observed as Davidson laughed. He wiped the towel across his arms. “God knows I could use the overtime. Lindsey just about bought enough this Christmas to put us in the poor house.”

“Yeah, well, you buying all that Earth Aleph crap hasn’t helped you much. Your wife probably thought she deserved equal spending.” Someone offered causing the varied officers about the locker room of the New York City Parahuman Response Team to all laugh. Davidson was known to have the latest fad that came from the alternate reality. 

“But, really.” Jones continued his thought on whatever was today’s topic of contention. “It’s been… what? About a day or two since Dyna Guy and Thunderhead did a sweep near Ellisburg. I’m telling you, something about it smells weird to me.”

Ah. 

Ellisburg. The small town located in western New York state had been a point of order many of the past week’s morning briefings. No one was really sure what was going on in the tiny hamlet, but word had come down today that some contingencies were going into effect. That might mean the PRT could be looking to enter the game.

“You’re smelling last night’s dinner on your upper lip, Sammy.” Dalton offered back with an exasperated tone. “Small towns are an animal all their own. Trust me, I grew up in one. This is all gonna be that some drunk knocked out a power line on the one road in and out of town.”

“But all of those reports about pets going missing?”

“You were at the Commander’s briefing. You’ve seen the reports. A pack of coyotes probably settled outside of town. You know that getting hunting licenses is harder than ever these days.”

“Guys.” Emily interrupted the discussion before possible intel above their paygrades could get out there. “Leave it be. County Sheriffs and Highway Patrol were notified. The Capes that offered to do a flyover reported nothing unusual.”

“But…”

Claire watched her best friend’s little sister take charge. “But nothing. They signaled back that while the town seemed quiet, there was no obvious signs of distress. That meant they was no reason to land. We don’t want to possibly cause an actual panic, do we? Until there’s some real facts of trouble, we are going to leave it alone.”

“Yes, ma’am. But…”

“But what? You want to authorize sending Protectorate Capes to find out why tiny Tim’s dog ran away? Or why little Lisa’s cat wandered off?” She took a deep breath. “Why don’t we save calling in the big guns for an actual emergency, huh? Like if the Slaughterhouse Nine make their way back from their European tour?”

The room was silent.

She watched Emily nod. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Several of the men and women that had gathered all responded. Claire made sure to agree, as well.

Jane’s little sister and Claire’s current superior within the PRT turned and offered a wry twist of her lips. “God, but if I had a nickel for every time…”

“You’d have enough to buy me coffee.”

Emily stuck her tongue out at the younger looking woman. “If I tried to support your caffeine habit, I would need all of those nickels.”

“Hush, you.”

Claire followed the inch taller woman through the doorway and over to a bench in front of their designated lockers. She waited knowing that despite the bravado moments ago, Emily was worried. 

“Have you…?”

At the brown-haired woman’s voice trailing off, Claire continued the thought. “Actually heard anything useful regarding Ellisburg?” At the other woman’s nod, she waved her hand back and forth. “Not really, although if I tried to get closer considering the Cape activity surrounding the area, there’s a good chance I’d get noticed.”

Emily nodded once before quickly stripping, only giving a moment’s thought to doing so in front of her lover, before quickly grabbing her shower kit. She glanced over her shoulder. “Talk to me, ‘kay?”

“Sure.”

They silently approached the showers. Claire leaned against the tiled wall away from the shower’s spray, but close enough that they could continue talking through the curtain that now separated them. “Its days like this that I miss the Science Division. What we were building in Brockton Bay.”

“You’re worried.” Emily’s voice carried over the sound of water running. “You think that something’s going on, don’t you?”

Claire seemed to choose a roundabout way or answering. “If I’d not had to hide after Iran. If I’d listened to Stephen and Jane, let the Capes deal with Hadhayosh on their own, maybe how we’ve had to deal with these threats could’ve been more in line like we had originally hoped. I could have helped fight to promote the SD as a viable option to the PRT.”

“The PRT has done some good. Made a real difference.”

“Yeah. Some.” The former Gotham Girl agreed. “But I still feel like there’s something off, something just not right, with how things are getting handled. Ya know?”

The shower stopped and Claire watched as her roommate, the girl that had wormed her way into Claire’s life and, ultimately, into her life in the PRT, exited the curtain, clad in a fluffy red towel, her brown hair slick against her head. 

“Some. I don’t necessarily agree with some of Director Costa-Brown’s decisions, but they’re hers to make.” She accepted the second towel to wrap her hair up with. “And the original Science Division team are in some seriously important positions.”

“Not working with the Parahumans, though.”

“True.” Emily quickly buttoned her uniform and checked her appearance in the locker mirror. Claire grinned.

“You look pretty.”

“Fuck you. I’m gorgeous.”

“Eh.” She blew a kiss. “You’ll do.”

Their playful banter was interrupted by one of the many nameless interns that seemed to always be about these days. Upper staff liked to have them on hand. “Lieutenant?”

Emily turned to look at the young man. “Name?”

“Donavan, Lieutenant. Frank Donavan.”

“How can I help you, Frank?”

“Captain Tagg requests you presence in his office, ma’am. ASAP.”

“Thank you. Let the Captain know I’m on my way.”

Once the intern was gone, the two women shared a look. Claire reached out a brushed the back of her hand against the other woman’s cheek in a strange moment of intimacy. “Go. It’s probably about Ellisburg. I’ll get ready.”

“Okay. You gonna listen in?”

“No.” The reality-displaced hero shook her head. “I can wait until you let the team know. I’ll call Jane and see how my godchildren are to pass the time. See how Larry’s doing as a house husband since Cobblepot lost the election.”

“Better you than me. You going to mention you and me sharing a place?”

“Nope. I may have agreed to let you move in, and I might have superpowers, but I draw the line at telling my best friend that I’m in the position to keep tabs on the goings on of her sweet, virginal, destined to be a nun of a younger sister.”

“Avoiding the issue.”

“Eh. I’ll say something when you get pregnant.”

“I’m gay, Claire.”

“Oh, good. Problem solved.” She offered Em a smile. “I’ll keep the conversation on what to get Kevin and Larry, Junior for their birthdays.”

“Coward. Fine. Tell her I said ‘hey’. To those two troublemakers, too.”

“Will do, babe.”

“Do not call me babe.” She tossed a wink at the superhero. “Not unless you buy my dinner first.”

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Quick Note - Some of the following was taken from Wildbow, either from Worm itself or from posts made by the author. This is in no way meant to be an attempt to claim ownership or to be a challenge to his work. I only used parts for storyline purposes.

Both Emily and Claire hated to be wrong. Usually, they were from such differing backgrounds and life decisions that they rarely agreed upon the same course of action, which allowed one to be right and the other… well, less right. The fact that they both knew that trouble was brewing in Ellisburg meant that when orders finally came down from on high to join the Canadian slash American task force to deal with Jamie “do not call me James” Rinke, they both were in a foul mood.

This was definitely not going to go well.

After orders had come in, their team had been night dropped a few clicks outside of the town’s border into complete darkness. The weather was clear, no cloud cover, but it was an unusually warmer February so far. The moon was barely over a quarter full, so there was enough ambient light to mean that their flashlights remained off for now. There were seven other teams dropped in the area, which meant the town was surrounded. The Protectorate had leant eight Capes to assist, half of which were flyers.

Claire checked that her rifle was clear before moving into the left point position. With her enhanced sight, it was easy for her to pick up any possible dangers well before the rest of her team, a fact that Emily exploited whenever she could. They were running radio silent until they reached Ellisburg.

So far… nothing. Everything was quiet.

After traversing across the fields and finally breaking from the tree line into what appeared to be the backyard of a fairly nice house, their squad, Team Two, were given the option to follow the road or continue on skirting various private properties.

Emily, who was leading Team Two, made a hand motion for their mikes to go live. “Status?”

Jacobs, the other point to the right, answered quietly. “All good.”

Claire nodded towards her friend before answering. “Confirmed. All good.”

“Recommendations?”

“I say take the street. No hostiles.”

“I agree.” Claire concurred with Jacobs. No sense in making this operation any harder than it had to be. “No hostiles.” And there weren’t. Her super-powered gaze picked up nobody around. Not anywhere.

Nodding, Emily took point and led the eight-man team towards the front of the house and led them down the paved street towards the town. She clicked her rifle’s light to infrared. The rest of the squad followed suit. “How far?”

Andrew Powell, the second-in-command of their team responded. “Five blocks. Two lefts. One right. We’ll be on the southeast corner of the main square. Teams Three and One will be at our left and right, barring any interactions with locals.”

“Radio silence still from other teams?”

Evans, the man on the radio, shook his head. “All quiet so far, lieutenant.”

They made it all the way past Martin’s prediction of two lefts and were on approach to the right turn when the radio Evans carried sounded off. Everyone seemed to jerk at the interruption of the night’s silence.

“…iet. No life. Over.”

“Repeat. Team Five here. What’s your status, Team Four? Over?”

Static crackled a bit before the radio fell silent again. Emily looked puzzled. Claire turned to use her sight to find where everyone else was. She found the nearest Teams easily, but the numbers of people out there seemed wrong. Definitely wrong. It took her a moment to realize that some of the shapes she was seeing were wrong, too.

It made the fact that the radio remained silent even a bit scarier.

Claire looked over towards Evans. She watched as he picked up the radio, his voice trembled only a very small bit. “Squad Two here. Repeat. Squad Two here. Anything out there, boys? Anything at all? Over.”

The radio crackled. “Nothing at One, over.”

Well, that helped not at all.

“Ditto from Three.” Davidson’s voice responded next. “One of my squad just said they’re not seeing any critters. No birds, rodents or strays. Over.”

No animals, no people. Claire realized that the lack of life other than them was part of why this place seemed so… off.

Emily shot a worried glance over to where Claire was now attempting to use her powers to confirm what Davidson had reported. She hated to admit it, but he was right. The entire area… maybe for miles around, seemed dead, almost. The former Superhero of Gotham City offered the Lieutenant a shrug and a shake of her head. 

Long seconds passed. Emily changed the settings on her flashlight back to normal.

“What was that about?” Evans questioned.

“No bugs. Dark night like this, you’d think there’d be a moth or some mosquitoes gathering around the light.”

Claire nodded grimly.

“All right.” Emily spoke, her voice strong and steady. Weapons hot. We’re moving at double speed until we hit the town proper. I want Clover and Jacobs on the corners.” They both responded with nods. “Evans, turn that off.” She gestured to the radio. “Keep it in your ear. You’re beside Powell. Andrew? You tell me what I need to know when the other Teams get their thumbs out of their asses.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“You three.” She gestured to the remaining team members. “Grid pattern. South, west and east with me at North. We good?” No one spoke up. “Let’s kick this pig.”

They, along with the other seven teams and eight support Capes, walked into a trap.

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

In her haste to get to Emily, Claire forgot herself and landed hard on the sidewalk outside the hospital’s entrance. The resounding crack reverberated throughout the five-story building, as well as the surrounding blocks in every direction and set off several car alarms. The hospital would leave the footprints she left in the sidewalk upon her landing there as a tourist location for years to come. The woman once known a world away as Gotham Girl cared for none of it. At her inquiry, the nurse operating the front desk offered her teammate’s room number without any hesitance.

Claire walked down the hospital corridor doing her very best to ignore the looks that everyone was shooting her way. She ought to be used to it, especially considering how she had gotten her start in Gotham City. The awe and the fear, but it had been over a decade since she’d allowed herself to be Gotham Girl. Those Endbringer battles didn’t count considering how Capes from all over were in attendance. A few of the hospital staff made their way to intercept Claire’s path, but with her hearing, she knew exactly where to go. 

Taking what seemed to be the thousandth left then another right, she found her intended target: room four-oh-four.

“Hey, Em.” After taking a breath to calm her nerves, Claire offered a smile to the lone inhabitant within the room. She was not very pleased to see her friend in the bed, currently hooked up to several machines that seemed bent on making as much noise as possible. She hated seeing Emily looking helpless, nearly as much as the woman actually in the bed liked appearing that way: not at all.

Emily offered her a smirk towards her roommate. “Well hi, Victory.”

“What?”

The former lieutenant, now captain, smiled maliciously. “Oh? You’ve not been watching the news? You’re the next big thing. They’ve already named you Victory considering you singlehandedly ended the Rinke threat, apparently.”

“Nilbog.” Claire automatically corrected her.

“What?”

“You meant Nilbog.”

“Huh?” She shook her head. “What’s a nil bog?”

“Nilbog. Goblin spelled backwards. One word. That’s what Rinke called himself now. He’s still alive and presumably well, considering that I haven’t ended his life, yet. After I put you on the chopper that pulled you and the remaining team out, Nilbog tried retreating to hide in some building on the outskirts of town. He and his creatures were returning to their hiding places all around him. Orders came from on high to contain Rinke, not kill him, so I made sure to seal him in. I expect the man will be alive for some time, trapped. His attempt at taking the entire town is over.”

“Why?” Emily asked the question, trying to ignore the ache in her shoulder.

Claire, now codenamed Victory apparently, shrugged. “Far as I could tell, up high is worried about that he’s wearing one of his creations. Made him bulletproof, maybe fireproof. Government won’t let the Army bomb the area. And I’m an unknown factor, currently. He’s created beasts that multiply if you set them on fire. You saw those, right?”

She shook her head.

“He may have other countermeasures for other courses of action. I’ve been clearing out the stragglers around the town except for his final bunker I trapped him in. You’ll get your chance to talk to the Chief Director, but last I heard, they’re planning to wall the whole building off. They’ll let the motherfucker be the a tiny little god in his own little building… a personal cage all his own, so long as he doesn’t try to expand or escape, which they’re saying he won’t. I pity him if he gives me another opportunity.”

“So, he’ll get left alone?”

Claire threw her hands up in the air. “I guess. There are six Class ‘S’ threats active in the world at large. The Endbringers make up three of them. The Slaughterhouse Nine as a whole are the fourth. Nilbog was named the seventh less than an hour ago.”

“And you’re mad that they won’t let you go ahead and end his threat.” 

Claire nodded. “He hurt you. You almost died today. Your shoulder will need therapy. Months, maybe. Your time with the PRT…”

“I’m okay.” Emily reached out her hand on the uninjured side. Claire grabbed it and held on as tight as she could without hurting her friend… maybe more. “We survived.”

Victory nodded. “We did. A lot of us did, but we lost more than we should have. Eight eight-man teams. sixty-four good men and women. Less than twenty left.”

“The risks…”

“Risks?” Claire was mad. “Those Protectorate Capes ran. They actually left us there to die. If I hadn’t have been there…” Her voice turned cold. “Cowards, the lot of them.”

“You always said that powers given without earning it would lead to something like this.”

“I did, but I was there. That’s the only reason those that did made it out safely. Or as in as good condition. I can’t imagine how bad you might’ve gotten hurt.” She wiped at her eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been hiding. Maybe it was a mistake. Powell is in a coma. Calvert with Three lost an arm. There’s one woman that will be on dialysis for the rest of her life.”

“We knew the risks.” Emily repeated. “We all did. You included.”

“I guess.”

Emily nodded slowly. She made a mental note to call her sister. Jane was always good at pulling Claire out of her funks. “What’s the story gonna be? Have you talked to Jane yet about any of this?”

Claire shook her head. “Phone lines are all tied up, but she and Rodgers planned for this. Our story will be that I Triggered out there.”

The woman on the bed snorted. “And they’ll buy that?”

Smiling slightly, the former Superhero known as Gotham Girl rolled her eyes. “Like anyone stayed that can argue my word. And besides, the Protectorate are really not known for their brains regarding common sense. Do you remember that conversation I had with Mouse Protector? I’m pretty sure she spent that entire summer waiting to meet on top of the Empire State Building.”

The two women shared a brief laugh.

“True.” She sighed once her chuckles died down. “So, when do I get out of here?”

“Well, considering that you are the ranking officer on site, I guess as soon as the docs say you’re done, we can sign the paperwork and get you back to the New York office.”

“Ranking officer?”

“Oh. Right. While you’ve been resting on your cute butt, the higher ups went ahead and field promoted you to captain, Captain.” Victory saluted. “Orders, ma’am?”

“Right. Get a doctor in here so I can leave this place.” She sighed loudly. “And fuck you, Claire. And find me a coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Interlude B

That no one had been there to counter Agent Clover’s oh-so-convenient story of Triggering at Nilbog’s Failure (as the media had dubbed the incident), Chief Director Costa-Brown had no legitimate reason to call the former PRT agent in and begin an inquiry in order to learn her secrets. To the members of Cauldron, it was obvious that their mystery Cape was the newly minted Victory, though now know, was not any easier to pin down. The plan at drawing her out had been a success, despite the loss of life that had occurred, but they were barely a step closer to achieving the goals.

As it was, the Chief Director’s other persona as Alexandria was taking heat and facing hard questions from the other agencies within the joint taskforce regarding the actions of the Protectorate members that had bolted at the first sign of real trouble. Parahumans that ran like frightened children while agents and soldiers armed with only conventional weapons stayed to fight and protect the general public was really bad for publicity. Everyone wanted answers, including why none of the bigger named Capes had been present.

She doubted the truth would suffice. How to tell the world that they were intentionally attempting to draw out someone specific?

She picked up her desk’s phone before the first ring had finished its ring. “Costa-Brown.” She barked into the handset.

“Are you available?” The Doctor’s cultured voice asked.

“I am.” She responded. Without another word, the phone was returned to the cradle. She pressed the intercom button to speak to her secretary. “Ann? I’m going to take a in-office break. Hold all calls for an hour.”

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t forget that you have a conference call with Secretary of Defense Cohen at two-thirty.”

“Thanks, Ann. I’ll buzz you after my nap.”

Lifting her finger from the intercom, Rebecca Costa-Brown stood and came around her desk, purposefully ignoring the stacks of correspondences that she really ought to be answering sooner rather than later. “Door.”

A slash of otherworldly light cut through the space in front of her, offering a portal from her Los Angeles office into another reality that housed her coterie’s home base currently. Stepping through, she was only slightly annoyed that she seemed to be the last in attendance as the rest of the table’s chairs were already occupied. 

“Am I late?” She offered.

“Hardly, Rebecca.” Legend politely answered from his chair across from where she stood. He was in his costume, though the electric blue mask was off his face. “I’ve never known you to be anything other than punctually on time since I first met you. The rest of us are early. The Doctor was just talking about the possible recruitment of Calvert.”

“Thomas Calvert? One of the injured agents from Ellisburg?”

Kurt offered a smile as he sipped at the cup he held. “He had come to the Doctor’s attention a few months ago. Really quite brilliant for someone that chose to join the PRT. Originally, we had considered one of the four-thirteen vials.”

“Not any longer?”

“Eidolon thinks that one of the new Tinker batches might work better. Maybe allow him to replace his arm that he lost.”

“I didn’t think the Tinker batches were working.”

At her statement, Kurt’s smile reminded Rebecca of his days as Harbinger. “Eh. We need new subjects to try it out on. Might be useful for him to be seen as another Trigger from Ellisburg. If it goes badly, we could use him as a counterpoint against Victory’s made-up origin story.”

“Fine.”

After she sat, David, currently in his day-to-day wear, cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention. “Are we ready to begin?” At his impatience, the PRT Chief Director nodded, as did the others around the table. Even the Doctor remained silent. “Good. I couldn’t wait, so I went ahead and did some digging on former PRT Agent Claire Clover, known codenamed Victory.”

“It’s been just over two weeks, David.” The Doctor admonished softly.

The man known otherwise as Eidolon scowled. “True, but are you watching what she has been doing in that week?” He opened the file folder that was on the table in front of him. “Ignoring the splash of an entrance she made by singlehandedly pushing Rinke into his self-imprisonment on that farm, Clover has made appearances across the country. One minute she’s in Columbus, Ohio locating a kidnapped child and then the next she’s in San Salvador saving lives after the earthquake.”

“We already recorded that her flight speed was at a Flight Mover.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Flight Mover?” He laughed harshly. “Rebecca, we’re looking at the very least a possible Brute Ten and Blaster Eight Plus to go with that Flight Mover classification, and it’s most likely an Eight Plus, as well.”

“I’d add Striker to that list.” The Doctor added.

“You’re forgetting Stranger, too.” Contessa spoke up next. “Her ability to be blind to my sight, as well as being out of Doormaker and the Clairvoyant’s abilities definitely means that the Stranger classification is in there.”

“Exactly.” Eidolon almost yelled. “And my research into Claire Clover? It leads nowhere.”

“That’s not completely right…”

“It is!” He picked up one of the pages from his folder. “Name? Addresses? Phone numbers? They’re all here, but the woman has no history that makes any sense.”

“David.” Legend offered in a somewhat soothing voice. “Calm down. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” He spat. “Claire Olivia Clover, born nineteen seventy-six. Age twenty-five. Born in Brockton Bay, Maine.”

“We already know all this.”

He ignored Kurt’s attempt to interrupt him. “Sure, but it’s all fake. Her social security number was stolen. The birth records are fake.”

“We know, David.” Rebecca sighed. “We even expected it.”

“Not to this level.” The man sat down heavily. “She was in the goddamned PRT. Was inside our own creation. Hiding. And now that she’d out in the open, everyone is looking at her. Everyone’s darling Cape. Hell, she’s trending higher that we are.”

“It’s not a popularity contest, David.”

He scoffed. “Of course it is, Alexandria. It always has been.”

“We’re getting off point here.” The Number Man admonished the assorted group. “We need to decide what to do about Claire Clover.”

“What’s to decide? We bring her in and demand answers.” David answered, his tone very telling regarding what exactly he wanted to know about. “We know who she is, or at least, who she claims to be right now. Let’s get her.”

“You didn’t look hard enough.” Rebecca spoke again. “You needed to dig a little deeper.”

“What are you referring to?”

Rebecca recited from memory the reports that she had been looking at in her office. “Nineteen eighty-nine. June tenth. It was a Saturday.”

“Why does that date sound familiar?”

“Hawke was killed that day. Vikare.” She clarified.

“Right.” Keith acknowledged. “I remember now. Does Vikare have anything to do with any of this?”

“No. But there was a police report out of Brockton Bay that later got pulled. An identification check regarding a woman by the name of Claire Olivia Clover, supposed age listed as nineteen. Random stop on a pedestrian late at night. Miss Clover was taken in for the weekend when her license came back as a fake.”

“Claire Clover was nineteen in eighty-nine?” Keith seemed to realize the obvious problem with the math, no need to check with Kurt for confirmation. “She’d be what? Thirty-two or three now? Same girl?”

“There are no photographs, but the initial report was for a blonde-haired girl, similar height and weight. Eye color. It’s too close to disregard as coincidence.”

“What happened after they brought her in?”

“That’s the thing. Nothing. There were photographs of her possessions that were sent in due to the uniqueness of their appearance. I found a report from Matthew from his correspondence as Hero that he was interested in a cellphone. It had an unknown brand name on the back. WayneTech.”

“Never heard of it.” Legend’s voice held a bit of confusion. 

“Indeed.” Rebecca arched an eyebrow. “No one had. Or has, since.”

“Contessa?” The Doctor brought everyone’s attention to the mysterious member of the group. The woman seemed deep in thought. She ignored everyone for a few moments before looking over to the Doormaker. 

“Do you remember the name?”

The man only referred to be his codename shared a silent look with his ever-present partner, the Clairvoyant, before turning back to answer Contessa. “We do. That reality is off limits. Level Omega. The one attempt to choose case studies from their Earth was rebuffed with extreme prejudice. Our point of contact made it clear that another attempt at cresting a link between our realities would be considered an act of World War. Preliminary investigation of the inhabitants of that Earth, which they referred to by the designation Earth One, leant to the conclusion that we would lose.”

“Point of contact?”

“A rather interesting male. Entirely covered in green energy. He introduced himself as a Green Lantern, which seemed to signify that there were other Green Lanterns.”

“A title, maybe?”

“Perhaps. This Green Lantern said that he represented an organization referred to as the Justice League. They apparently acted the first line of defense for their Earth.”

“Parahumans?” David asked.

The Clairvoyant and the Doormaker nodded in perfect synchronicity. It was unnerving, to say the very least. “Their Earth’s history with powered individuals far exceeded our own.”

The Doctor nodded. “I remember now. It was one of our earlier attempts prior to establishing the proper rules we now have in place regarding first contact. That mistake is the reason we do further inquiries into other realities before we start looking to acquire test subjects.”

“Could Claire Clover be from this Earth One?”

“It’s possible.” The Number Man admitted. “I’d need further information to base any true findings upon, but I would be willing to stand by the statement that it is very likely. Earth One did have several points of variance surrounding it. Realities that used numerical designations to differentiate each from the other. Maybe if not One, but a close variant.”

“And Earth One’s Parahumans?”

“Most were referred to as super heroes.” Contessa answered Legend. “Their power sets have no link to Shards. None. In fact, there is no link between Scion and their Earth at all.”

“How are they getting their abilities then?”

The Doctor laughed. “A multitude of answers, if memory serves me correctly. Space rocks and lab accidents. Arbitrary evolutional aberrations. Time travel. For all I know, they could be wearing magic rings.” She sighed loudly. “Frankly, after they cut off all contact after kicking us out, I was relieved. Their reality frightened me in ways that made Scion seem like a minor problem.”

“My god.” Legend offered.

“And we could have one of their kind here? On Earth Bet?”

“How do we approach her then, if this is what she is? What she could be.”

Rebecca leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Since she was a part of the PRT, her file is classified from others, but I have complete access. She has friends. Family, of a sort. People that she cares for. Her roommate, in fact, is Captain Emily Piggot, who is on the fast track to rise fairly high within the organization. While Claire Clover needs to be handled carefully, there are ways to get to her without showing our entire hand.”

Legend scowled. “Are we sure we want to do this?”

“What else would you have us do?” The Doctor questioned the hero. “We chose this path. It must be seen through to the end.”

David stood. “I agree.” He looked over to where Alexandria remained seated. His actions (as if he was in charge) were pointedly ignored by those around the table. “You focus on finding out what we can from this Piggot woman. I intend to confront Victory directly.”

“Are you sure?” Legend asked. “I mean, maybe I should…”

“No.” He stopped his friend and teammate. “I got this.”

Rebecca barely refrained from rolling her eyes. A long game would be the better approach, as opposed to their desire for immediate results. They still had time.

Right?

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Victory 01.05

She watched as the group of young villains rode those weird creatures down the alleyway, eventually taking a corner and vanishing from her sight. The bugs allowed her to somewhat sense where they still were, but it was at the edge of her perception. By the time she heard the telltale sound of a Cape while above, they were safely gone.

Should she have gone with them?

Turning around to face whoever had arrived, she felt her mouth open at the sight of Victory, the Bane of the Endbringers, slowly floating down to land on the rooftop. Taylor could feel her fingertips tingling. Victory was here. Victory was smiling at her. And Victory was speaking… speaking to her. Her! Even Victory’s voice was kinda perfect. 

“Are you okay?”

Taylor had to visibly shake herself once she realized that her ultimate idol was standing just a few feet away from her. She silently nodded her head. Well, it was probably more like her head was imitating a bobble head toy, but she was sure that the most famous Independent Cape in the country understood.

She hoped Victory understood.

The blonde hero… Taylor wondered at how young she looked, her blue eyes literally sparkling, and her famous blue painted lips curled into a smile. Her teeth were so white. Taylor wondered what toothpaste Victory used. Blinking rapidly, she gestured towards where Lung was currently laying. Taylor had wondered that those criminals had left her here all alone with the gang leader, but Taylor watched as Victory simply hit him on the back of his head and he was down for the count. 

Hard.

How awesome was that?

Victory was slowly approaching. Taylor marveled at how nice the woman’s costume looked. A dark blue vest over dark, almost black, gray tights. Long matching sleeves. Blue ankle boots and gloves. A short cape with a slight rising collar. Taylor’s own custom-made costume seemed so dark and dingy in comparison, made with spider silk, notwithstanding.

“I’m not a villain.” Taylor spoke suddenly. Why had that been her go to? Surely every bad guy in the history of bad guys tried to at one time or another to fool the hero by proclaiming their innocence. Taylor actually wasn’t a bad guy. How could she convince Victory of that fact?

The blonde woman’s smile never wavered. “Oh. I know. You’re out here to be a hero. I can clearly see that.”

“Exactly.” The teenager could feel her back becoming slick with sweat. “I swear I’ve never associated with the Undersiders ever before.”

“It’s fine.” She paused. “What do I call you? Young Hero seem a bit…”

“Pretentious?”

“I was gonna say ‘a mouthful’, but yours works. Good word choice there.” 

“My Mom was a college literature professor.”

“Yeah? Neat. But you’re not a young hero. Wait. I mean, you are, but…” Taylor found it endearing that the unmasked woman’s cheeks gained a bit of redness. “Not that you’re not. I mean, you are a hero, right. And young, too.” Taylor smiled, and even though her own mask covered her entire face, it seemed as if Victory knew that they were sharing a smile. “Good. Great.”

“Great.” Taylor repeated.

Victory tilted her head. “So… what do you call yourself, young hero?”

“Oh.” Taylor wanted to scream. She needed a name. “Um, well, it’s that I really don’t already have a name.”

Victory glanced over towards the east. “So, it seems like Armsmaster is on his way here. It must be his turn to work with the PRT tonight.” She glanced over to where Taylor waited. “Did you want to accept credit for taking Lung down?”

“Can I do that?”

“Sure. You did all the work. You deserve the win. Any bounty that might be on his head, as well. Coinage is always appreciate, huh?”

“That means his people will come after me, though, right?”

The blonde hero nodded. “Yeah. That’s why most heroes that take on the big names are part of groups. New Wave Brigade. Wards. The Protectorate. Canada’s Guild. A few others.”

“I haven’t decided…” Taylor swallowed. “I mean, I planned…”

“Let’s go somewhere else and talk. Is that okay?”

Taylor barely was able to hold in the squee that threatened to escape out from her mouth. Victory wanted to spend time with her? Yes, please! “Um, okay. S-sure. What about…?”

“Him?” She gestured towards where Lung still lay. “I called it in. It will count towards me in my name until you decide if you want to claim the capture. You’ve got time to choose what you wanna do.”

“Okay.”

She offered the younger girl another smile. “Wanna fly?”

“Can we?”

Victory smiled. “Of course. Do you have a preference on how I carry you?”

Taylor considered the various options. She started to say that any way was fine, but as the older hero drew nearer, the obvious fact that Taylor was taller became more apparent. How weird would it be for the shorter woman? “Uh.”

Taking pity on her, Victory turned around. “Put your arms around my neck.”

“I’ll choke you.”

Victory laughed. “It’s fine. Trust me.”

She grabbed the shorter woman, feeling entirely foolish… well, until they were suddenly airborne. Taylor couldn’t hold in her laughter. “This is amazing!” She cried out. They were so high up! Why would anyone ever walk again if they could do this? “I wanna do this forever.”

“Glad you don’t get air sick.”

At the statement, Taylor frowned. “Has that happened? You flying someone and they puked on you?”

Nodding, Victory turned her head so that they could share eye contact. “Yep. I got a kid out of a burning building. I blame smoke inhalation for a lot of it, but his mom said he can’t climb trees too high, otherwise… upchuck city.”

“Yuck.”

“Well, ignoring the choice of topics, want to grab a bite somewhere? There’s a diner down by the precinct near the bay. They have great milkshakes.”

“You mean Darla’s?” Taylor offered. “That’s near where my Dad… I mean, uh, I know a guy…”

Victory laughed. “Relax. I get it. Let’s go. My treat.”

…ooo000OOO***V***OOO000ooo…

Taking a sip from her milkshake, Victory licked at her upper lip and then waited until Taylor was looked directly at her. “You need to tell your family. Taylor.” Yeah. She offered her real name to the established hero. “Full stop. Even if you decide the Ward Program isn’t for you… and truthfully, it’s not right for everyone, you still gotta let the parental units know.”

They’d shared a bag of fries. She still wasn’t sure about trusting someone that put mayonnaise on their French fires, but Victory hadn’t forced Taylor to try it. No, they’d been talking about the inherent dangers of choosing to be a Cape. She was surprisingly cool with explaining the pro’s and con’s of being a hero, an independent, a rogue and a villain. In fact, from what Taylor had gathered from the many stories and examples, Victory had been each classification at one time of another.

She just couldn’t see Victory as a villain. 

Taylor sighed. “My Dad. He… it’s just the two of us… things haven’t been…”

She jumped a bit when she felt Victory’s gloved hand take hers within its grasp. “You have to tell him. You’re underage. Even before you took the mask off, Taylor, I could tell.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No. You took down Lung. That’s a feat that only a very, very select few can boast about. You should be proud, but also a bit scared.”

“Scared?”

She nodded. “You just threw the entire city into a tailspin. The E88’s probably already know that The Boys’ leader is out for the moment.” She held her hand up to stop the younger girl’s attempt to interrupt. “The Merchants’ won’t be far behind. Tonight should be fairly calm, barring anything weirder happening, but tomorrow? It’s gonna be interesting.”

“Why don’t you just stop all of it?” Taylor knew she was being arrogant at asking the question, but there had never been a good enough reason, in her mind, for the heroes with enough power to not just stomp out the villains. “I saw you knock him unconscious with barely a tap. Why not do that to all of them?”

“Honestly?” When Taylor nodded, Victory sighed. “Because no one with high enough authority will give me the go ahead.”

“What?!”

She nodded. “This world sucks sometimes. You’re right. If they’d let me, I’m pretty sure I could eliminate the big threats before they could launch any type of counter. I’ve had to make a lot of concessions; compromises to be able to stay out of the Protectorate. My interactions with Eidolon are infamous. I think there are entire websites devoted to the arguments we’ve had over the years.”

“Then why let someone else tell you not to?”

“Because I’m not in charge. I don’t get to make those decisions.” She answered matter-of-factly. “The American citizens of this country elected the men and women they wanted to make those types of choices. Until they change who decides, I have to wait.”

“But that’s not fair.”

“Really?”

Taylor nodded her head once, resolute in her opinion.

Victory finished her vanilla shake and then set the empty cup on the ledge next to her gray tights covered leg. “Okay. So you think that since I’ve got the power, I get to make the hard choices, correct?”

“Yeah.” She wondered why this sounded suspiciously like the lectures her mother used to have when Taylor had done something wrong.

“Okay. I’ll take out on the gangs tomorrow. Good?” She waited until Taylor gave a silent agreement. “The day after, I’ll round up the rest of the Capes that are known for doing bad things. Uber and Leet. Your maybe new friends, the Undersiders. A few others that are in town. Faultline’s crew is rumored to be headed this way. They’re mercenaries. Can’t have them here. We still good?”

“Sounds great so far.”

“Since Brockton Bay is gonna be villain free after that, I’ll move on to the surrounding cities. Is that okay?”

“Seems fair.”

“So, news of what I’m doing will spread out by this time, if not before. I may have to get a bit rougher with some of them. Is that okay?”

“You’re just using enough force to capture them, right?”

Victory nodded. “Absolutely. Just enough to subdue them. But what about those that refuse to give up? How far can I go?”

Taylor started to see the trap. “Well, there are rules…”

“We’re making the rules now, Taylor. You and me are making those decisions.” She offered a sad smile. “I think we can approve the use of enough force to win. A few villains might get hurt. Maybe even die, but in the greater scheme of things, I think it’ll be all right. You still with me, right?”

Taylor’s brow drew downwards as she considered the direction this was going. “Yeah.” Her tone wasn’t as sure as it had been. “I’m still on board.”

“Good. So, eventually all of the Parahuman villains are gone. I’ll keep a careful watch to make sure none of the new Capes decide to go the villainous route.” She tapped her fingers against her blue stained lips. “What about the Rogues?”

“What about them? They’re not villains.”

“True, but how do we know that? We coulda missed something. Let’s make them all join the Wards and the Protectorate. That’ll keep them in line. Right?”

“No. I just wanted to stop the bad guys.”

“We did. We are.” The blonde argued back. “And this way we can make sure that people with powers are given proper instruction and someone to watch over them.”

“Okay. Okay. I get your point. Experiment over.”

Victory pinned me still with her very blue eyes. They were cold. Hard. “No. I like your idea. But I didn’t join the Protectorate because of the politics. They’re all good… well… mostly. We had better clean ranks. Only those that agree with me. I mean us, Taylor. Really. I meant us. Those that agree with our point of view can stay; help us watch over everyone else.”

“Victory, we can stop now. I get it. Point made.”

The shorter woman offered a cute little frown. “I’m glad, but we didn’t even get to the bad parts. Thinking that way, someone with enough power could start making decisions for everyone, powers or mundane.” She looked forlornly at her empty milkshake cup. “Long ago, I once knew a guy that was probably the most powerful person ever. Gods did all that they could to avoid getting on his bad side.”

“Scion?”

Victory shook her head. “No. A superhero. The superhero. We laughingly called him a Boy Scout. His motto was Truth, Justice and the American Way. He really meant for American to mean Freedom. Truth, Justice and Freedom for All. ”

“Sounds kinda…”

She laughed. “Yeah. My mentor… kind of a Dark Knight type, he wanted to pull his hair out with all of the times the Big Guy got in the way. See, the man that got me started, really started to become a hero… well, he was sorta intense. If a few bones had to get broken to get the job done, oh well.”

“I’ve heard of a few Capes like that.” Taylor acknowledged.

“Yeah. Bruce would have made them all cry. Just the idea that he was after you was enough for anyone with a lick of sense to find the nearest police officer and confess. But see, I didn’t realize it at the time, but the only person he looked up to, that he really respected, was that Boy Scout.”

“I don’t understand.”

He blonde stared off over the city. “I didn’t either. Not until I got here. Made friends. Became Victory.” She blinked back what Taylor thought might be tears. “It’s not the powers that make you special, Taylor. It’s not even how you use them.”

“What is it then?”

Victory smiled the smile that won her the cover of several magazines across the world. “It’s actually understanding that it shouldn’t just be your choice when to use those powers.”

“Who do you answer to?” It was an impudent question. They both knew it, but Victory answered it anyway.

“My wife.” 

Taylor smiled. The idea that someone as powerful as Victory was married. And to another woman. It was almost… it… well, it seemed to humanize the hero. “Really?”

“Yeah. Her name is Emily. She’s Brockton Bay’s PRT Director.” 

“Oh. Wow.” She attempted a joke. “No conflict of interest there, huh?”

Victory barked out a laugh. “You have no idea.”

There was nothing really to say for a bit after that. Both women sat on the roof’s ledge and watched as the sun slowly began to rise over Brockton Bay. Taylor sipped at her watered down soda while Victory seemed to soak up the morning sun’s rays, almost as if they were rejuvenating her for whatever came next.

“I think I’m going to join the Wards.” Taylor finally offered into the silence.

The world-renowned hero nodded, her attitude made it seem like she knew that would be Taylor’s decision all along. And who knew? Maybe she had.

“I think you’ll be happy there.”

“Thanks. First, though, I need to have a long overdue conversation with my Dad.”

“Another wise choice.” Victory chuckled. “You’re two for two. Wanna try for a trifecta?”

She quietly considered the hero’s words. A third decision? What could she…

Her heart was in her throat. Only a very select few were able to get what she was about to request, and Victory had never agreed before. Could she mean it?

“Will you act as my Ward Sponsor?”

Victory stood then. She reached down and assisted Taylor up off form the ledge. The brand new hero complained a bit when she realized that her butt was numb, but Victory seemed perfectly fine.

Powers were such bullshit sometimes.

Any further grumblings were quieted when Victory wrapped her arms around Taylor, bringing the young girl into a hug that she had apparently been missing for a few years. She didn’t really understand when or why she felt tears begin to fall, but the powerful woman didn’t seem to care, as she continued to hold her tightly. They both relaxed eventually.

Victory nodded. “I’d be honored to sponsor you into the Wards Program.” She used the corner of her cape to dab at both of their eyes. “Now, let’s get you home before your father has the police put out an APB on you. It’ll be to my undying shame to get arrested for kidnapping a teenage girl before you can tell you Dad that I’m going to take care of you.”

Taylor sniffed. So attractive. At least she wasn’t wearing the full mask any longer. “Eh. Be a great story to tell his coworkers once I get all famous and stuff.”

Victory nodded. “Dream big, Bug Girl.”

“Okay, we have until we get to my house to come up with a better name.” She rolled her eyes. “So, we walk slow. No flying until we come up with a bitchin’ name. Give me ideas.”

Victory floated them both down to the street below. “Fine. I had to get someone pushy to sponsor. Em’s gonna have a field day over you. I am in so much trouble. And Jane. The babysitting jokes. I can hear them already.”

“Jane?”

“Sister-in-law. Best friend.”

“Okay.” She paused for a moment. Taylor then loudly clapped her hands. “No more complaining. No more going off topic. I need a name. More suggestions. Chop, chop.”

“So, it was a ‘no’ on Bug Girl?”

“No.”

“What about Weaver?”

“No.”

“Butterfly?”

“No.”

“Dragonfly?”

“No.” She paused. “I don’t like using ‘fly’ in the name.”

“Okay… how about Skitter?”

“Ick. Definitely no.”

“Scarab?”

“No.”

“Weaver?”

“You said that one already. It was a no.”

“Blue Beetle?”

“Weird. Why blue? And no.”

“Alliteration, I guess. Never asked.” She shook her head. 

“Fine. Whatever. What else ya got?”

“Swarm?”

“Too villainy.”

“Widow?”

“Was I married and didn’t realize it? Not even sixteen and now a dead husband?”

“Fine. Wasp?”

“No.”

“Glow Worm?”

“Uh, a world of no.”

“The Tick?”

“No.”

“Moth Woman?”

“No.”

“Ambush bug?”

“Yuck. No.”

“Earthworm?”

“Nope.”

“Black Scorpion?”

“That’s a little better, but going with no.”

“Atom Ant?”

“Wasn’t that a cartoon from the seventies?”

Victory shrugged. “No idea.”

“Then no.”

“Spawn?”

“Nope.”

“Bumblebee?”

“I don’t look good in yellow.”

“But you like the name?” Victory’s voice her a spark of hope.

“Not really.”

“Then who cares about the color?”

“Just thought you should know.” The teenager offered. “Costume colors are important.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Maybe. Still no though.”

“How about Ladybug?”

“Nah.”

“Insect Lass?”

“Are you even trying?”

“Is that a no?”

“Yes? 

“Really?”

“No.”

“Ugh… you know there’s a whole school of thought that heroes that base their names off of their powers are only setting themselves up for failure. I mean, a bug themed identity does lend to the idea that your powers are, in fact, bug based.”

“Fine. Give me another choice. Give me an example.”

“Uh… Lady in White?”

“What?”

“Well, your costume is kinda white in color. You said costume colors were important.”

“Definitely not.”

“Minerva?”

“The Roman Goddess?”

Victory nodded.

“I don’t think I could pull it off.”

“Believe in yourself, Taylor.”

“I’ll try. No.”

“Okay… how about Arsenal?”

“No.”

“Speedy?”

“No.”

“Teen Titan”

“What happens after I hit my twentieth birthday?”

“Twenty-something Titan.” Victory laughed. “Then Thirty-something Titan.”

“Do I have to even say no?”

“Omen?”

“Oooh. We’ll put that in as a maybe.”

“Nice. One out of how many?”

“Stop stalling. Next?”

“Ravager?”

“You suck at this, you know that, right?” She huffed. “Maybe the offer to join the Undersiders is still on the table. Bet that they could come up with a name for me.”

“Rude.” Victory crossed her arms across her chest. “I got one maybe outta you. See if I offer anything else. You think you’re so smart? You come up with a name then.”

“Nooo.” Taylor whined. “Please. Pretty please. We gotta come up with something cool and ultra-awesome. I need help.”

“That you definitely do, Bug Girl.”

“I changed my mind. Can you take me to Armsmaster? I bet he’d be a great sponsor. Or Miss Militia. I heard the Wards all love her. Better than you, Victory. No wonder you’ve never been one before.”

“Eh. Miss Militia is good. Armsmaster does fine, too, I guess. He only sponsors other Tinkers, though.” She smiled at Taylor after she indicated that the two-story house they were standing in front of was her home. Luckily, it was still early enough that no one was out to see two Capes approaching. “And call me Claire, okay? Claire Piggot.”

“Fine. I’ll keep you as my sponsor.” Taylor could barely contain her smile. I know her name. “You still suck at this, Claire.”

“Definitely keeping Bug Girl as your Cape name now.” She smiled a wicked little smile. “And that’s Mrs. Piggot to you.”


End file.
